


From Ashes

by ironicallysad



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Background Relationships, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Multi, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:52:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6329974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironicallysad/pseuds/ironicallysad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The earth was almost destroyed 200 years ago by a stray comet that wandered too close to the planet. From the ruins of the human civilization a new religion was born. “The Faith” it was called and its members –The Gemmed Priests- worshiped the stars that had sent them Prometheus, the gigantic meteor that carried within itself the mineral that would become the earth’s main energy source and salvation.<br/>This is the story of how an acolyte of The Faith embarks in a quest to find the truth about the world that earth used to be and get tangled in the web of secrets behind the religious organization that controls every aspect of the new human race and the dreaded terrorist group called “Vulture”.</p><p> </p><p>Or</p><p> </p><p>In which I stapled a bunch of dystopian tropes together and threw some Teen Wolf in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lullabies and children’s tales

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so how does this work? This was my first sterek ever and it's not beta'd at all. I wrote it almost a year ago and completely forgot about it. I'm trying this out to see what happens so any mistakes in tagging or whatever just let me know. So... yeah bye.

Tears stung his eyes as he tried to push the words out of his mouth. His throat constricted as he stared at his son’s big brown eyes, still hazy with sleep but beaming with a curiosity and warmth that never left them, that John hoped never left them. He tried to articulate the words that he pictured in his head but all he managed was a strangled sigh.

“What’s wrong daddy?” his son asked. “When did you get home? Mom and me were going to make you birthday pancakes before you got back from patrol.”  
“It’s ‘Mom and I’, Stiles.” He corrected, purposely refusing to say his real name. The name she picked. “I have something to tell you, but you need to promise me you’re going to be strong. Can you do that son?”  
“Yes.” Stiles said determined. He sat up on his bed and nodded stoically. “I promise I’ll be strong, dad.”

But what was he going to tell him? “Your mom is with the Gods now”? “Your mother is dead, son. You’re stuck with me”? Claudia would’ve known how to tell him, how to easy him into what would become the worst day of his life. She would’ve read him from the tales books, and told him about the wonders beyond the sea and the sky. Stiles deserved someone who would know how to ease his pain, someone who could keep track of his rambling when he got excited over something, someone who would tuck him in bed and kiss his moles while he giggled; not this beat down poor excuse of a father that he had. He was angry at Claudia for leaving him, but mostly for leaving Stiles alone.  
He looked at the boy in front of him. His ears were too big for his head and the expression he probably thought looked serious was more of a pout than anything else.

“Your mom… she. Mommy is gone, Stiles.” John finally said as he clutched Stiles hand in his,  
“What? Dad, where did she go?” Stiles asked alarmed.  
“With the Gods. She’s with the gods now.” John said. His voice sounding strangled to his ears.   
“But she wasn’t so old. Why would she leave? Why not you, you’re so much older?” Yes. Why not me? Why would they take her and leave me?  
“It’s ok. She’s with grandpa and grandma now.” He said as he wrapped his arms around his son. He could feel Stiles’ tears wetting the fabric of his shirt as he clutched at it and sobbed against his chest.  
“But, why?” Stiles asked. His voice muffled against John. “She didn’t do anything bad. Why would she leave us? Did I do something bad? I promise I’ll stop bringing stray cats and dirtying the floors, dad. I’ll be good- please. Dad, bring her back.”  
“No, no.” He tried to make soothing noises and rubbing his son’s back as he had seen her do it hundreds of times, but the memory stung so bad that the only thing he could do was just hold him closer and tighter.   
“I’ll be good.” Stiles repeated.  
“It was nothing you did wrong, Stiles. Sometimes people just leave to join the Gods early.” He knew that sooner than later that explanation wasn’t going to suffice, that he had to tell him how his mother was murdered but for now, that was what he said to him, what Claudia would’ve said to him. “Do you remember what happens when people go with the Gods?”  
Stiles nodded but didn’t let go of John’s shirt. “They fly in the morrow breeze to join the stars of the nighttime skies” Stiles recited as his breathing slowed.  
John recognized the passage from one of The Gemmed Book’s funerary songs. “And be with their loved ones in the heart of every sun” he finished. “Do you remember why they go to the stars?”  
Stiles finally let go of his father’s shirt, sniffing softly and looked at him as if that was the stupidest question he had heard in his 9 years of life. “Because that’s where the Gods are. They live in the space between worlds.”  
“Yes. That’s correct” John said as he hugged him again. “What do you know about the Gods, Stiles?”  
Stiles bit his lower lip as he thought of an answer. He liked when people asked about what he knew, but mostly he just liked the stories in The Gemmed Book. He had an impressive memory; most of his teacher had said it was a very useful gift but John just thought it was very inconvenient for him as he could remember when he bribed him with the promise of cookies when they got home if he sat down in the car quietly. (“Dad you promised you’d give me cookies if I stopped singing as we passed the diner where we went on mom’s last birthday”)  
“My teacher, Ms. Morrell, says that they are the souls of everyone who ever lived and went to the stars and that they rain down the world as the crystals that we use to make things work.” He said, beaming when he got an approving smile from his father.  
John laid down with his son as he told him about all the things he had learnt in school, about the gods and Promecite and the meteor. He knew that Stiles was humoring him, talking about history just to distract his father and himself from the grief. It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew. He was going to be the strong figure Stiles needed and used to have in Claudia. He was going to raise this kid to be a man his mother would be proud of.

***  
Ten years later

“Rise and shine Scotty-boy!” he shouted at his phone, knowing that his friend had half asleep accepted his call thinking it was his alarm clock. “Hey, are you awake? Hello? Don’t make me come up there and kiss you awake”  
“Gross.” came a grunt from the other end.  
“You’re awake!” Stiles said excitedly.  
“You’re shouting!” Scott grumbled.  
“Sorry!” he shouted again. “Sorry, I’m just so excited; Today is our first day,”  
“Yes, I’m excited too.” Scott agreed, almost fully awake now.  
“Well, come down here. Dad and I are having celebratory bacon,” Stiles said, barely containing the urges of shouting. “Which is not happening again this month!” he accentuated the last sentence looking at his dad, to which he just snorted.  
“Bacon is celebratory in itself” Scott said yawing.  
“Deep.” Stiles teased. “Now get your butt here, we have twenty minutes until the ceremony.”  
There was some fiddling noise from the other side of the line, which Stiles assumed was Scott trying to find his watch to see the time. When the noise settled there was a distant groan of frustration,   
“IMSOLATE!” Scott shouted. Stiles just laughed and hung up.

Stiles was all set and ready to leave, he looked at his dad for one last time and smiled as he pulled him into a hug. He looked tired as he always did, but there was something in his face, he was thinking about her.  
“She’s proud of you son, wherever she is.” His dad said. “I’m proud of you.”  
Stiles hugged his dad again sniffing softly, he wasn’t crying, it was probably the stupid pollen. God! Stiles hated the spring. “I love you, dad.”  
“I love you, Stan.” His dad said with an accent he hadn’t heard in years. He hadn’t called him anything but Stiles since he was eleven. It made his totally pollen-induced sniffing grow louder and grosser. There was a knocking in the door followed by Scott entering uninvited, not that he needed an invitation for that matter.  
“Morning, Sheriff.” Scott said grimly, he looked like he had a fight with his clothes… and lost. It was quite some time since his dad hadn’t been the sheriff of anything but “sergeant” didn’t have the same ring to it.  
“Good morning, Scott.” His dad answered politely as he retreated to the kitchen. Damn pollen.  
“You ok, buddy?” Stiles said as he unbuttoned Scott’s jacked to button properly the one he’d skipped in his haste. “You look like you got ran over by a hovercar.”  
“I didn’t sleep well last night. Isaac kept sending me nudes” Scott whispered the word nudes as he glanced to the kitchen, where Stiles dad was doing the dishes.  
“Gross, too much information. Thank you very much.” Stiles made gagging noises. Isaac was getting so teased when he saw him.  
“He was wearing nothing but a scarf.” Scott said with a grin. Stiles just covered his ears with his hands as he made more gagging noises.   
“Now,” Stiles said after he took his keys and chanced a quick glance at the mirror beside the door. He was wearing the grey military jacket that new academy students had to wear until their training ended and they were able to pick an order to join. “We need to go or we are going to be late.”  
Stiles said bye to his dad, who still had some pollen stuck on his nose, and then followed Scott out the apartment and into the hallway. Stiles lived in the fourth floor and always took the stairs but Scott was lazy so they waited for the elevator. He missed living in a house, he was only ten when the entire population of Beacon Hills – turns out not hills at all but a vale that was perfect for a new project the government tried to develop – was relocated to the city, but he missed having that secured little world into a world that was the suburbia.  
After the relocation, the new Beacon City underwent a great development and even became a signature city with its own purple headquarters and Academy of the Lights.  
As they stepped into the elevator, Scott kept talking about how great things were going with Allison and Isaac while Stiles just kept wincing. Scott needed to deal with his oversharing issues.   
“So, ready for the big day?” Scott asked, changing the subject.  
“Yeah, dude. I’m so ready, I’m almost too ready.” Stiles said.  
“You sure? You look a little distracted.”  
“Yeah, it’s just that… I don’t know. I woke up with this hunch?” Stiles supplied.  
“Yeah?” Scott prompted as the elevator doors opened.  
“It’s probably nothing, don’t worry.” Stiles waved.  
“Ok,” Scott said unsure. “Everything’s ok, right?”  
“Yeah, yeah.” Stiles assured. “I’m probably just nervous.”  
“Let’s go then, the guys are going to meet us at Capitol Square.” Scott said as the elevator opened and they walked out of the building.

Scott hopped over his bike and put on a black helmet before offering the white one to Stiles. He hopped behind his friend and pressed the little button in the side of his helmet to allow the intercom. Scott pressed his thumb to the center of the handle and a soft buzzing announced that the engine was starting, Then they were hovering, just a couple of inches at first as Scott pivoted the hoverbike and lunged for the street. As they picked up speed, Stiles clung tight to Scott’s middle, poking him softly in the side and hearing his filtered giggle thought the intercom on their helmets.  
They lived just a couple of blocks away from the capitol square where the ceremony was being held. Three hundred new applicants were going to swear their oaths to The Faith and enter the academy, where they would train physically and mentally until they were ready to join an order.   
There were six orders, every one of them with its own history and purpose. The Diamond Order were the spiritual guides, The Emerald Order of medics and healers, The Amethyst Order was the military and law enforcement of the country, The Topaz Order that managed the country’s wealth, The Ruby Order made of sorcerers and mages who knew the secret of the Promecite and the EMBER, and finally The Sapphire Order, philosophers, physicists and scholars; all united under the rule of the High Priest, the governor of the nation of Continental America.   
Supposedly, before the rapture the continent was divided in numerous different countries. The United States of America, the largest of them all, was now The Northern Reach and where Beacon City was.  
After the rapture, a series of climatic changes melted most of the ice caps and made the sea rise and swallow what was known as Canada; then the earthquakes divided the south into two, the part that was not longer attached to the continent was called Poseidan and was then declared an independent country from the continent.   
The rest of the world was pretty unchanged, if the textbooks and tutors are to believe. Most of Europe was untouched by the cataclysm, Africa gave up a small amount of its land to the sea but endured, Japan and Australia weren’t that lucky.  
A warning in the display of his helmet pulled Stiles out of his thoughts. It was a proximity warning; something was speeding behind them and was heading for a collision if they didn’t get out of the way. Scott jerked the bike off to the side of the street as a wheeled vehicle hauled past them.  
“What an asshole!” Scott said exasperated through the intercom.  
“What did you expect of someone who drives a wheeled black camaro?” Stiles asked.

They made the rest of the journey at a careful speed in case Old Fashionate Asshole decided to try and run them over again and- ok Stiles was being a hypocrite because he too drove a wheeled vehicle; something about hover technology didn’t feel right, no matter how good it had gotten in the last ten years.   
They arrived to the square three minutes before the ceremony started and searched the crowd for their friends.  
“Hey, testicles left and right! Over here!” a voice said from somewhere to Stiles’ left.  
“Hey, Jackson. How’s everything in doucheland?” Stiles said as a greeting.  
“I don’t know, Stilinski. You tell me, you’re a resident.”  
“Whoa, burn!” Stiles grinned as he hugged Jackson.  
“You guys make me tear up,” said Danny as he joined in.  
“Hi, Danny.” Stiles said as he hugged him and Jackson hugged Scott.  
“Where is everybody?” Scott asked.  
“Don’t know. Somewhere in this sea of grey.” Danny winced as if he was physically pained by the horrendous uniforms. “That’s what I would hate the most out of the academy.”  
“I thought it was the firm authority and discipline you hated, Danny.” Stiles interjected.  
“You’re one to talk.”  
“Hey, people love the story of how I got arrested.” Stiles said defensively.  
“You mean how your dad dragged you home by the ear?” Scott smiled.  
“Shut up, I’m a badass.”  
“No, you’re not.” Lydia said melodiously from behind them.   
Behind her were Isaac and Allison, like her own bad ass entourage. They kissed Scott in turns, earning curious looks from some passerbyers. A loud tune from the stage at the end of the plaza adverted the applicants that the ceremony was about to start. The presenter’s voice was high pitched and had a certain singsong that made Stiles shudder.  
“Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the annual Ceremony of Initiation of the new applicants of the Faith” The Lady said to the microphone. She was wearing a white robe with the badge of the diamond order embroidered in the chest. Stiles recognized her as Lady Magda Cliff, the Magna Priest of the white order. “Today, three hundred young men and women will receive the badge of applicant and enter the gates of the academy of light; where they’ll train their bodies and minds in order to defend this beautiful country and its people.”  
“We better get going.” Danny said. “The purple shirts are still a little mad about that comment I made on the internet.”  
“I can’t see why ‘Vulture should blow up my boss’ house’ could look wrong in the eyes of the police.” Lydia joked.  
“Whatever, see you all weirdos on Sunday. They let you out on Sunday, right?” Jackson said.  
“That’s the plan.” Stiles said.

Stiles was left with Lydia, Scott, Isaac and Allison. They all were applicants too, and even though the only one who was going to apply for the sapphire order with Stiles was Lydia, it was nice to have that many friends during the year of basic training.  
Scott was planning on applying for the emerald order; he wanted to be a healer just like his mother. Isaac in the other hand, wanted to join the amethyst and become a border officer; he already lived near the city limits, which gave him a pretty clear picture of the gang and vulture problems that plagued that side of the city. Allison was joining the purples too, but she wanted to be a detective like her father whom Stiles used to think was a secret agent. He still did a little, no matter how ridiculous Agent Argent sounds.  
“Hey, speaking of Vulture,” Isaac said in a hushed voice. “Last night there were two more bombing attempts in the border. The purples are freaking out because they think that vulture’s going to try and sabotage tomorrow’s elections, so the government is keeping it secret until the elections pass, apparently being incapable to protect the city is something that would impact badly Bishop Nightingale’s reputation.”  
“Jesus, how do you find out about all that stuff?” Stiles asked.  
“I have connections sweet cheeks.” Isaac purred.  
“Scott, your boyfriend is creeping me out.” Stiles laughed.  
A loud screech of feedback from the sound system in the stage drowned Scott’s response. The image on the screen behind the –still talking-- presenter distorted and pixilated until it went black and then flicked on again. It took Stiles a moment to make out what was appearing in the screen behind the startled Lady Magda, but when he finally understood what it was he knew that they needed to get out of there, quickly.   
Chaos flourished at the plaza and a sea of grey bodies separated Stiles from his friends. He tried to elbow his way to them but the human stampede was knocking him from all sides. “Stiles! Meet us at the east exit!” he heard someone call. He called for his friends to no avail, they were already gone. He tried to orientate himself, trying to figure out where the east was when someone knocked him over. He stilled himself with the help of someone; he looked up trying to mouth a thank you when he saw it. A silver skeleton was looking at him, its blue glowing eyes looking right into his. He could see himself reflected in its face.   
“Whither away so early, little red?” said the wolf with a flash of blue in its eyes.” Stiles remembered. A snipped of a memory from his early childhood. His father had told him that when he was little he was able to memorize entire chapters and even exact events to the detail, but his ability had slowly vanished as he grew older. Stiles didn’t understand why after all those years he remembered that, out of all things.  
Stiles straightened himself and took two steps back from the apparition in front of him. He tried to run, to get away from the monster, but he couldn’t set his eyes apart from the creature’s. The time stopped and they stood facing each other as realization dawned in Stiles,  
A silver mask, Stiles thought as he glanced at the screen on the stage. There it was written a long and complex computing code, a killcode, Stiles knew.  
Vulture he thought as the skull burst into flames.  
Blue fire he thought as he felt the wave of heat and screams coming from behind him.

***  
It was supposed to be an easy mission. He just had to extract his target from the perimeter and make sure he didn’t take the applicant oath. “Nothing you can’t handle, der-bear.” Laura had said; but, as he was often reminded, there was nothing easy about the life Derek lived.   
He was walking around the plaza seeking for his target, feeling the pull of his scent and trying to find his heartbeat. He could feel the slight distortion the mask irradiated, it felt like a warm crust around his whole body. He was just thinking about telling Deaton to find another way to seal his EMBER when someone stumbled onto him.   
A quick sniff at the air confirmed that the boy in front of him was his target. He smelt like confusion, fear, and some kind of wood scented aftershave, but most importantly he didn’t smell human, he smelled burnt and old but not human. There was the smell of his pack, too; the lingering smell of tears and a faint loneliness around the edges. Derek tried to get his tranquilizer gun from his hip but the intensity of the eyes that stared at him was paralyzing.   
Derek watched as the confusion in Stiles’ eyes turned into comprehension and then everything went wrong. He saw the light before he heard the explosion, a blinding blue orb of flame that seemed to absorb the gray bodies around it, followed by a deafening rumble that made Derek’s teeth clack. He quickly ripped the mask off as the wave of unnatural fire, EMBER fire, neared seemingly in slow-motion. He shot his target in the heart and then tackled him to the ground in a hail of flying rubble, hearing the sound of one of the human’s ribs cracking under his weight.   
Derek had learned about EMBER back in basic education, when he was still a boy and his family was alive. EMBER was the name they gave to the energy that the Promecite crystals irradiated; it was the earth main source of energy. But there was more to it than what tutors taught; EMBER was a kind of radiation that provoked mutation in humans if they had constant and prolonged exposure; the people changed by EMBER were called “Mythoi”. There were multiple kinds of mythos; Derek belonged to the oldest and most complex of them: the lycans, rumored to exist even before the rapture and being strengthened by the arrival of Prometheus and EMBER.  
Once the fire gave to the smoke, he lifted the unconscious human in his arms and ran into the nearest building, covered by a cloud of dust and smoke. Once inside, Derek searched for life forms in the building, an old habit you learn when you’re constantly running into traps. When he didn’t find any, he settled Stiles on the floor and tried to piece together what the hell just happened.  
He got out his phone and downloaded the maps of the buildings they were in and then marked for the emergency number. It wasn’t an actual phone but a computer that informed every officer of the status of various missions.   
“Lieutenant Derek Hale. Mission REG failed. The target is secured for now. Waiting for instructions.” Derek said into the phone. Once the headquarters found out about what happened they were going to give him new order as to what to do with Stiles. He studied the younger human but it seemed that besides the broken rib and a few cuts and burns he was fine; he was just sleeping placidly and mumbling to himself. Derek felt a sort of familiarity towards Stiles, he had been following the boy for almost a year, protecting him and waiting for the consul of officers to deem appropriate to make contact with him. At first Derek had thought it was pointless to recruit him, he was just a hyperactive, annoying kid. How could he ever be of any help in the secret war that they were waging? How could a human help the mythoi stop the faith? But Derek knew it wasn’t the entire story, there were things the consul wouldn’t tell him. No matter how capable or committed to the cause he was, he still was just Laura’s beta and he didn’t have clearance for that kind of information.  
His phone buzzed in his pocket with a new text message. It was from one of Laura’s personal untraceable phones and if that wasn’t clue enough that they were in the middle of a crisis the content of the message was.

[Mission REG compromised. We’ve got a rat. More info soon.  
Initiate Kettle Protocol.  
Protect the target while we plan an extraction point, but do NOT make contact.   
Good luck, Der-bear.]

Derek knew that if Laura was sending him instructions herself it meant that she didn’t even trust the close circle of officers. They were pretty much screwed. Derek didn’t understand what happened but it seemed like Vulture had fallen, the black shirts had won. The people wouldn’t believe anything they said if they thought Vulture were responsible for the bomb, Stiles wouldn’t believe them.  
He looked at his phone as if it was going to give him the answers he needed, the names of the people who betrayed the pack.  
“Initiate kettle protocol.” He said instead. The phone’s screen turned black and a message announced that all data had been deleted.  
The kettle protocol was a virus coded by one of the best hackers in the organization. It could enter every database in the city and erase everything on him for a couple hours, making him an untraceable ghost.   
He propped himself against a wall and sat down next to Stiles. He removed the dart that was still stuck in the middle of the sleeping human’s chest and wolfed out to listen in for anyone who got too close to their temporal hideout; the interference of the bomb would make him invisible to the EMBER detectors.   
Derek knew that Stiles would eventually wake up and that he had strict orders from his alpha not to make contact with him, he couldn’t let Stiles see him. In the other hand, he had orders to protect him, but how could he protect his target if he wasn’t around? He couldn’t trust anyone else, especially not Faith’s priests.  
***  
He was starting to doze when he heard voices getting closer from the plaza; a few yards away, Derek estimated.  
“Search for survivors in that building and take them to the medical camp.”   
“Yes, sir.” Said one of the men as his footsteps neared.  
He needed to move fast. The purple shirts would have retina and EMBER scanners, and even with the kettle protocol hiding any trace of his identity, they would easily detect that he was a mythos. His only option was to take Stiles and flee.  
He ungracefully slung Stiles over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and headed to the back exit that he saw in the maps. When they got to the back alley he tossed his jacket and his phone in the dumpster behind the building. He had numerous fake ID cards back in his car but he couldn’t risk going back and running into the guards. Stiles had his apprentice badge in his pocket but it was biometrically locked, which meant that if anyone but Stiles held it, it turned red.   
Just as he was thinking in going out in the street to find his car, a woman in green scrubs opened the door from where he and Stiles had came out, her golden curls were parted by the straps of the gas mask she was wearing. For a second he thought about knocking her out and stealing her clothes, until she spoke.  
“Well, hello there, sunshine.” She said as she removed the gas mask.  
“Hello.” Derek said stiffly. Erica was one of his subordinated and “sunshine” was the code for saying that their conversation was being heard by a third party.  
“What have we got here? Aw poor thing. Let me see that cut.” Erica said with a meaningful look.  
“It’s nothing. I’m fine. I need to find my friends, they were out there.” Derek said as he subtly gestured at his eyes to ask Erica if whoever was listening to them could actually see them. She shook her head silently.  
“You better go to the med camp inside the city hall. All the survivors are being taken there.” She said as she pointed at Stiles. “You’ll probably find your friends there.”  
“Do you have some water?” Derek said nodding at her attire.   
“Here,” Erica handled him a water bottle and an ID card.  
“Thanks, miss.” Derek said nodding.  
“Anytime, sir, make sure to get that cut checked.” Erica said and pointed at the door at the end of the alley before going back the way she came from. Derek carried Stiles into the little storage room using the card that Erica gave him to open the door and waited for her to get rid of whatever microphone she was wearing.  
After ten minutes Erica came back with an ID card of her own and some green clothes for Derek.  
“Report.” Derek commanded after she told him that she had gotten rid of the intercom the purple shirts had given her.  
“An EMBER fusion core bomb was detonated at the plaza. The bombers used some kind of killcode to neutralize all the drones and jam all electronic devices in a five miles radius, they used the breach in the firewall that our hacker opened to enter the defense systems. Our hacker coded these master keys after you initiated the kettle protocol.”  
“Any idea of who did this?” Derek asked with a deepening frown.  
“Nope. Whoever did it knew about our plans… everybody thinks it was us, though.” Erica admitted.  
“I figured they would.” Derek sighed. “Stay close to the purples for now; see what you can find out. If you find Boyd or Cora tell them to meet me at the med camp. We will find you after we secure the target so we can get the hell out of here. Understood?”  
“Yes, sir.” Erica said with a hint of amusement.  
“Where is he?” Derek asked as he started undressing.  
“Probably gathering sleeping beauty’s friends.” Erica snorted as she sat beside Stiles. “Why is he so important?” Erica said after a moment.  
“I don’t know.” Derek said as he pulled on the green pants.  
“Just saying, everything would be easier if we knew what the hell is this all for.” Erica explained. “He smells like you.”  
“I had to carry him; I can’t help it if our scents mingle. It will go away soon.”  
“Did you notice it?” Erica inquired. “He smelled different for a moment… back then, out in the plaza, I mean.”  
“Yes. I don’t know what was that either.” Derek admitted. “Maybe it was Deaton’s mask distorting our senses.”  
“Yeah, maybe it was the stupid masks.” Erica huffed. “I hate those things.”  
“You have your orders. Go.” Derek dismissed. “Take care.” He added and Erica left the room with a nod and a smile.  
Derek knew she was right about how their superiors kept them in the dark about their plans concerning Stiles, but he also knew that it was best if they didn’t know all the details about the mission, that way if they were made out and tortured for information the organization wouldn’t suffer that much. All for the cause Derek thought bitterly. And well, Derek didn’t know what to think about the smell, Stile’s scent seemed completely human now.   
Along with the nurse disguise Erica had brought a folding stretcher and a gas mask similar to the one she was wearing earlier. He put the mask on and pressed de small button on the stretcher’s handle, it opened with a metallic click and started hovering. Derek carefully put Stiles on the hovering contraption and silently praised Erica.


	2. Encyclopedia of Medicine Volume VI: Healing Burns.

A single thought sprout in Stiles’ mind, a raw and desperate need that he could feel in his bones as he slowly fell into consciousness. Water he thought. Water, please. His mouth was dry and his lips were cracked. When he tried to lick them the only thing that came of it was the taste blood and ashes. He tried to open his eyes, to call for help. Scott Allison Lydia Isaac Killcode Wolf Bomb Bomb BOMB!  
He jerked up and opened his eyes as he remembered. His side throbbed and his legs didn’t respond. For a second he thought that he was disabled, but the excruciating pain in his knee as he clashed down to the floor proved him that he still had his legs. As he lay on the floor he took in the room; he was in a small office, his makeshift bed was a desk topped with the couch’s cushions and sterile-looking white bed sheets. His attempt to stand up had knocked over a pail of murky water that had been in a small table beside the desk/bed.  
“What the f-“a voice said from behind him. Standing on the door was a guy wearing scrubs embroidered with the badge that defined him as a viridian doctor of the emerald order.  
“I fell down.” Stiles croaked. “Can I have a glass of water, please?”  
The guy glared at him as if Stiles’ existence was a test on his patience but Stiles was too weak to care; besides it was kind of his job to take care of the injured when terrorist organizations felt like blowing up three hundred innocent people. The guy huffed a sigh and helped Stiles to the nearest chair before leaving the room without a word. A few minutes later he came back with a bottle of water and two little glass phials filled with what Stiles assumed were painkillers. Stiles gulped down the whole bottle of water as the guy gave him a scrutiny look.  
“Slow down,” The guy commanded with a voice that didn’t quite match his big bad wolf appearance.   
Wolf.  
“Drink this; it will help with the pain.” He said as he handled Stiles the small glass tubes.  
Whither away so early, little red?  
“What happened?” Stiles asked as he drank the medicine, the anxiety and panic were starting to kick in as his mind wasn’t swarming in pain. “Where am I?”  
“A bomb exploded in the middle of the plaza. We are inside the city hall, an emergency medical camp to treat all the wounded.”  
“How many?” Stiles asked and the pained look in the guy’s face confirmed that he didn’t need to elaborate.  
“Twenty-five dead and thirty-three gravely wounded.” The guy said going back to his scowl.  
“I need to find my friends.” Stiles said as he hastily tried to stand up, only to come falling again. The guy caught him and steadied him with strong arms.   
“You need to rest. I’ll find them.” The guy said. Stiles was going to protest because, how was he supposed to know his friends, but he felt dizzy all of the sudden. A silver mask.  
***  
When he woke up again he was just as thirsty as the first time but the pain was a lot better.  
“Water.” He managed to say. He saw something move in his peripheral vision as a glass materialized in front of him and a hand lifted his head to a less horizontal position. He drank as much as he could. “Thanks.”  
“No problem, Stiles.” The hand seemed to say. He fell asleep again.   
Blue fire.  
***  
When he woke up for the third time he was alone again in the room. The orange light of the late afternoon filtered through from the curtains of a window that Stiles didn’t notice before. He carefully sat up in the desk/bed, feeling sore all over despite all the cushions. He took a minute to assess his state. He could feel stiff bandages over his ribs and a similar one over his brow. There was a green bandage over his left calf that smelled like medicine and another one just over his right shoulder. Stiles’ conclusion: A cracked rib, multiple lacerations, bruises and burns; all thanks to the shrapnel of the bomb and the rubble that the explosion sent flying.  
Stiles tried to stand up, stilling himself with help of the desk; he could use that nurse’s help right now. He needed to find his friends, make sure that they were alright. He made his way to the door and opened it to find the lobby of the city hall. There were viridian priests everywhere, helping the gray applicants and civilians alike. The wounded were scattered all over the floor as the doctors walked around with trays of medicines and bloody rags.  
Stiles felt like he was going to be sick, the reek of death and charred meat was overwhelming. He saw a few familiar faces in the crowd, neighbors and old acquaintances from school, all in scrubs and helping the doctors to move patients and stitch up wounds. He saw Allison talking to a little girl and farther off there was Melissa and Scott trying to pin down a guy. Stiles made his way to Scott as he pressed a needle to the guy’s arm and he went limp.  
“Stiles!” Scott exclaimed almost shoving his mother out of the way to get to Stiles.  
“Hi, dude.” Stiles tried to sound not as bad as he felt.  
“We were so worried. You’ve slept the whole day.”  
“In my defense, the medicines had a pretty strong kick.” Stiles grinned. Scott didn’t seem to hear anything; he was too busy hugging –correction-- crushing Stiles.  
“It’s good that you’re strong enough to walk but don’t push it, kiddo.” Melissa said from where she was cleaning her patient’s wounds.  
“Yo! Thanks for all this Mrs. M.” Stiles said gesturing at the bandages as Scott disentangled himself from him.  
“Oh, I didn’t do that. We found you already taking a nap and mumbling about herbal ointments in your sleep.” Melissa smiled.  
“Wait, what? I figured that it was you who sent the scowly nurse to give me the painkillers and the sedatives.” Stiles said puzzled.  
“No, sweetie. We searched for you for hours before we found you in there.” Melissa nodded to the door of the office. “Nobody could tell us where you were and we were getting desperate, until Danny thought of using your phone’s GPS to find you.”  
“Danny’s here?” Stiles asked.  
“Yeah, he’s helping Isaac to get all the names from the wounded.” Scott explained. “After the bomb went off and you didn’t show up at the exit we called out the gang to find you. Even Jackson is helping!”  
“Well, I’ll need to find out who was that guy and thank him because he did a great job with these bandages.” Stiles said with more energy than he really had. “You know anything about my dad?”  
“He was with us until we found you; we told him that we would take care of you while he helped the purples.”  
“Oh, ok. How can I help?” Stiles clapped his hands, trying not to think too much about the hell his dad must’ve been through when they couldn’t find him.  
“What time is it?” Melissa asked thoughtfully. “You could help Scott give the people some food.”  
“I could do that.” Stiles said, happy to help.  
“Oh, wait! You haven’t eaten anything since this morning, have you?” Melissa said preoccupied. “Sit. Scott will bring you some food.”  
“It’s cool, Mrs. M. I can eat while I help Scott.” Stiles said hurriedly, he needed to inquire about the attack and what was happening outside. Stiles knew that the authorities must be in emergency and the city was probably swarming with purples, trying to find the bombers.  
“We’ll be right back” Scott said.

They crossed to the back of the hall and went through a hallway that lead them to a small lounge where the supplies were being classified and inventoried. There were purples guarding the food stacked on top of the conference table that someone had dragged out from somewhere in the building. A thin men dressed in green was holding a clipboard and counting water bottles as a group of purples unloaded them from a truck into the building by a postern door.   
“Hi. We’re here for the dinner? It’s almost seven o’clock; the wounded must be getting hungry.” Scott told one of the purples awkwardly.  
“Doc, is it time for dinner yet?” The purple asked to the thin man in green. Stiles recognized them; the purple shirt was Jordan Parrish, one of his dad’s men and the thin man was Doctor Harris, the Magna Priest of the Emerald Order.  
“Yes, I was about to ask you to distribute the fruit and bread.” Harris said without looking up from his clipboard. There was a certain buzz of urgency in the room… the entirety of the building, actually.  
“I’ll set three guards to help you.” Parrish said with a scowl.  
“That’s the sergeant’s kid, Parrish. They won’t steal the food.” Harris said amused as he looked at Stiles. Parrish gave Stiles a thin smile and then resumed his authority vibe. Stiles had to accept that Parrish was adorable.  
“Ok, then. We still need to unload two more trucks and we’re short on men. Think you can handle this on your own?”  
“Yeah, man.” Scott said as he took the stroll car that Parrish had arranged with a crate of water bottles, a crate of apples and two crates of various types of bread.  
“Maybe, come back and help when you’re done.” Parrish told Scott.  
“Sure thing.” Scott said for the both of them.

Once they were out into the hall again Stiles grabbed a water bottle and an apple, he was starving but he needed to learn what happened before he could even think to relax  
“So what’s happening?” Stiles asked. Scott looked confused for a second, too absorbed in handling the water and food to the people.  
“It’s crazy out there, dude. The Bishop declared a curfew and everything.” Scott said in a hushed tone.  
“Do they know who did it?” Scott looked at him like the question personally offended him.  
“What do you mean? Didn’t you see the screen before the bomb went off? It was Vulture, dude.” Scott gritted.   
“It was blue, the fire, I mean.” Stiles changed the subject. A silver mask.  
“I heard it was an EMBER crystal core bomb.” Scott supplied. “Whatever that means.”  
Stiles knew about the crystal core generators; he had read one of his mom’s papers about them. They were basically powerful magnets that created a magnetic field which encapsulated the radiation produced by the Promecite and produced electricity by literally creating a tiny ball of pure energy. A crystal core bomb was the opposite; the magnets didn’t contract Promecite’s energy but acted as a magnifier, destabilizing the crystal until the point of fusion.   
“It means trouble.” Stiles sighed. He knew that it was selfish to only think about his father’s safety but Stiles would take having his father safe at home over the lives of the entire city.  
They kept handling the food and water in mostly silence and went back to Melissa, who was all done with the first guy and stitching up someone else.  
“You go lie down for now, sweetie.” Melissa said in a commanding tone “You need to rest.”  
He did as he was bid, lying down on a nearby unoccupied mattress. He didn’t feel like going back to the office, --which he suspected was sound proofed because he doesn’t remember hearing any of the chaos that was happening outside—something about the nurse guy and how he vanished felt weird. Stiles tried not to think much on it and went to sleep again knowing that his friends were safe.  
***  
He woke up again to the sound of hushed conversation. His body was not as sore and even though the painkillers were wearing off, he didn’t feel bad. His friends were sitting on the floor beside him and talking in low voices. It was pitch black outside; only the light of a few lamps illuminated the immensity of the city hall’s lobby.  
“It was them, I’m sure of it” Isaac argued.  
“Why would Vulture want to kill applicants? We aren’t even acolytes.” Lydia said annoyed.  
“You saw what was on the screen, Lyds.” Allison interjected. ”They’ve been threatening to use the killcode since the purple drones were approved.”  
“And there was their logo in every TV screen, too.” Scott said a little too loud to be a whisper.  
“It wasn’t Vulture.” Stiles said. Allison yelped startled as she covered her mouth to muffle it. “Sorry.”  
“What do you mean?” Isaac asked.  
“I saw a Vulture member in the crowd. He was just as surprised as me when the bomb went off.” Stiles explained.  
“That doesn’t prove anything.” Scott said; clearly displeased to disagree with his best friend.  
“That’s not all,” Stiles continued. “I think he was the one who cured me and took care of me before you found me,”  
A wolf wearing a silver mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok that wasn't so bad, right? Just let me know if it's crap so I can delete it and we all can forget about it. Or if you like it I can continue. Any feedback is greatly appreciated. This is my first time posting anything I've written so maybe don't drag me too hard pls.
> 
> The chapter name theme it's supposed to be all the books stiles has read and has something to do with the memory that the bomb triggered which if i continue to write this will be important in the future.


End file.
